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to him, and among them the one signs and gestures, between the who had presented the draft, he had father and daughter, cried out,no doubt of being able to identify, Come and stand on this side, and even swear to her person.” He young lady, where, perhaps, you was then ordered to withdraw; and will be able to answer in plain EngHoward brought Colonel Levison lish. Frowns, and winks, and nods, into court. “Here, my Lord, is a are a language not generally undergentleman, who did reside at No. 160, stood. I never observed what an in the Strand, the house where Cater expressive countenance 'my friend drove to, on the Wednesday morn the Colonel had got, till within the ing."
last quarter of an hour." « Colonel Levison !" cried the Howard then advanced to SingleEarl in astonishment; but the gal- 'ton, and whispered, that he had realant officer was so confounded with son to think that the money had been the fear of detection in his mis- paid on the account of the Countess deeds, that he remained silent, and Annesley. Singleton started, but Howard went on to say, “And now gave him leave to put the question comes an important witness, this secretly to Miss Beresford. “He did honest fellow, Gentlemen,"--and to so, and the whole truth was, in a Levison's horror Phillips came for moment, visible; the lady's counteward,---" this young man is ready nance turned to a livid paleness, as to depose, that on Wednesday the she faltered out, “ Good God! how 22d instant, about twelve o'clock in did you know that?" the forenoon, a lady, habited in black, “A confession, Mr. Singleton," came in a hackney coach to his mas- exclaimed Howard, “ we have to ter's door, his master being the re need of any farther witnesses." doubtable Col. Levison, now before Singleton then went out, and after you; that the lady alighted from the an interview of great length with coach, and herself knocked at the his sister, in which she acknowledged house-door, viz. No. 160, Strand; the whole extent of her delinquency, that she continued in private con- returned again to his judgment-seat, ference with the Colonel, believed and caused the Earl to read over a to be her father, for the space of ten recantation, which Singleton himself minutes, and was occupied, during had drawn up, of the charge he had that time, in paying a large sum of preferred against Meliora Jerningmoney; this same Richard Phillips, ham, and to repeat it aloud, in prehaving been despatched to procure sence of all the witnesses there asa stamp, of the value of seven shil. sembled. lings and sixpence.” “ Where is Levison and his daughter were the lady?” asked Singleton; “ Just then permitted to proceed on their at hand," replied Aoward ; and respective journies, while Singleton straitway led forth Miss Bridget undertook to act as mediator between Beresford, at the sight of whom, his unhappy sister and her injured Lord Annesley uttered an exclama- husband, offering to discharge, on tion of mingled aversion and asto- his part, one half of the Countess' nishment; while the lady herself, enormous debt. Lord Annesley was on beholding her father, whom she glad to avail himself of the liberal believed to be many hundred miles tender, but would not consent to rnn distant, was overcome, almost to a similar hazard, by receiving the fainting. When she was recovered Countess into his house, and she was however, she underwent a minute compelled to retire, on a somewhat examination by Singleton; but when limited allowance, from her husband, he demanded to know from whom to live with her parents in Yorkshire. she received the money paid to Meliora and her mother had reColonel Levison, and for what pur sided for a short time at a small cotpose it was paid, she maintained tage on the banks of the Thames, a resolute silence; nor even when in contented poverty, when they reSingleton menaced her with being ceived information that Howard was taken into custody, could he elicit Aed no one knew whither, having any reply. Just at this juncture, first, with the exception of a handHoward, noticing the collusion that some provision for his wife and siswas being carried on, by means of ter-in-law, made over the whole of
his vast wealth to Mrs. Jerningham, you have executed
your illustrations addressing, a letter to her to this I shall not at present say any thing : effect, in which he said, he only gave it is my office to decide the differenback the money to “ the affectionate ees of opinion which formed the little Emma," whose tender interces foundation of each story; and in sion had been the remote means of this must declare, that I agree with laying the foundation of his fortune, Sophia in awarding the highest place and begged it might be accepted and to friendship, as tried by the several regarded as the debt of gratitude. members of the proposed question;
It was discovered, but not til for although Love has been proved after his death, that he had retired to be sufficiently powerful, and said to a kind of cell, deeply embosomed to be intensely pleasurable, yet it in a wood, somewhere in the west of fails in being the most pure of the England, where he literally lived as affections: while Gratitude, in the a hermit.
highest degree a pure, and in some Meantime young Sir Alfred Ar- few instances, a powerful sentiment, den (for his father was now dead) still, to a thoroughly independent returned home, and constant to his spirit, the weight of an obligation vows, claimed the honour of Melio- is irksome; and which must prera's hand.
clude Gratitude from being allowed The nuptials were celebrated with to rank universally as the most pleagreat splendour and rejoicing; they surable of
surable of our feelings. But the lived long and happy, and united to bond of Friendship between two rear a numerous offspring, who were exalted and congenial natures aftaught, in lisping accents, to bless fords, perhaps, the nearest approxithe name of Godfrey Howard, mation on earth to perfect felicity:
the affection which it feels for its
object is pure as virtue--its power CONCLUSION.
has been proved to extend even to
the sacrifice of life; while the plea“ Well, my children," said the sure derived from a participation of worthy, rector, as Caroline closed its joys, must be tasted in order to her volume ; having pow com be appreciated. To you, therefore, pleted your prize-essays, it only re- Sophia, do I declare the honour of mains for me to pronounce judg- victory; and having thus fairly won ment on your respective claims.-- the prize, you are welcome to wear With regard to the manner in which it as soon as you please.”
TO Mrs. L, ON HER BIRTH-DAY, JUNE 5, 1818.
ELLE se passe Iris ! Cette belle jeunesse,
The Editor will be happy to receive an elegant translation of the above lines.
ESSAY ON THE GENIUS OF COWLEY, DONNE AND
Cowley owes more of his poetical No flesh is now the same 'twas then in fame to his metaphysical acuteness, me, than to any display of original poet And that my mind is chang'd yourself ical genius. The fire and enthu may see. siasm of poetry are no where to he The same thoughts to retain still, and met with in his writings. His lan
intents, guage is not the language of feeling. Were more inconstant far: for accidents He has neither the sublimity of Mil Must, of all things, most strangely in
constant prove, ton, the pathos of Shakspeare, the copiousness of Dryden, the delicacy
If from one subject they to another
move; of Pope, the naivete of Shenstone, My members, then, the father members or the truth and nature of Gold
were, smith. He excites no affection : he From whence these take their birth commands no sympathy. He is so which now are here, replete with exaggeration, hyperbole If, then, this body love what th’ other and catachrestical decorations, that did, he is frequently monstrous and dis- 'Twere incest which by nature is forbid. gusting.' Cowley was neither a phi This is neither poetry, philosophy, Tosopher, a metaphysician, an orator,
nor common sense; for though Cownor a poet: for though his acquired ley intended nothing more than a knowledge embraced, perhaps, all shadow of excuse for inconstancy in the philosophy and metaphysics of love, we have not, in this passage, his age, he never aimed at improv even the shadow of a shade, It ing the stock which he possessed ; commences with a contradiction, and and instead of applying himself to
necessarily ends with one, as it is the discovery of new truths, be exer
all one thought, spun out into a cobcised himself in de basing the value web texture. If the person writing of the old. He seldom ventures to those lines was not the person who think for himself; but having taken loved the lady five years before, he up some common-place thought, or should not have written,-“ Five philosophic dogma, which had been
years ago I loved you," as he mainà thousand times discussed in the
tains himself, that it was not he schools; he repeats it over again, that loved her, but another person. that he may have an opportunity of It should, therefore, have been, he displaying his wit, by viewing it in loved, and not I loved, for to write the character of a harlequin, and
I loved, is to admit that he was still not of a philosopber. He has, there
the same person.
The same abfore, no originality, of thougļit, surdity is more glaringly manifest though, like every other harlequin, in the line, he is original enough in the views which he takes of the thoughts of For I am not the same that I was then. others, but instead of using them to for if he was not really the same, some noble end, he only brings why not write, them into contempt by the littleness of the purposes to which he applies For I am not the same that he was then. them. In the following absurd ap- If the reasoning, however, were even plication, for instance, of the doc- true, the application of philosophy trine of personal identity to love,
to poetry, is neither philosophy nor how puerile, how unpoetica!, is the poetry ; and if some choose to ca!! use to which he applies his meta it wit, I have only to say, that wit physical knowledge :
always appears more natural in prose Five years ago (says story) I loved your soul-moving language of poetry
than in poetry. The pathetic and For what you call me most inconstant now;
should never be prostituted to the Pardon me, Madam, you mistake the purposes of wit. Addison very justly man,
censures a passage in the “ Paradise For I am not the same that I was then; Lost,” which represents the evil
spirits rallying the angels upon the conceive a greater insult to female success of their new-invented artile delicacy :lery. “ This passage,” he says, Thou in my fancy dost much higher * Úlook upon to be the most excep stand, tionable in the whole poem, as being Than woman can be plac'd by nature's nothing else but a string of puns. hand; Of Cowley, however, it may be said, And I must needs, I'm sure, a loser be, that the spirit of panning exercises To change thee as thou’rt there for very a perpetual and predominant influence over his pen, and that it can be
Cowley wrote in an age when the traced even where his subject re
English nation had advanced half quires of him to be plain and na- her course from barbarism to civilitural. Where can a pun be so un- zation. It might therefore be thought natural and monstrous as in the that the writers of the time would language of love, or the description have been more under the dominion of ardent passion; and yet Cowley of natural feeling than the writers thus describes absent love:
of the present day, because they had By every wind that comes this way,
not removed so far as we have done Send me at least a sigh or two;
from the state of nature, a term Such and so many I'll repay,
which is generally applied to the As shall themselves make winds to
We find, however, get to you!!!
that every thing in Cowley and in This disgusting hyperbole is still most of his contemporaries is artitimore tolerable than the following cial; that the spontaneous feelings description of ardent affection:
of nature are scarcely ever recognized
in their writings; and that in fact, if The fate of Egypt I sustain,
we were to judge of them by their And never feel the dew ot rain, From clouds which in the head appear; destitute of these feelings altogether.
works, we should conclude them But all my too much moisture owe To overflowings of the heart below.
This phenomenon has not been hi
therto accounted for; and it appears Cowley has devoted a great por to me that Lord Kames would have tion of his muse to the charms of found it more worthy of investigawoman; but no poet was worse cal- tion, and more properly forming a culated to praise her in such a man part of the subject of his “ Elements ner as would secure her esteem. of Criticism,” than many of the teIndeed, the woman who would not dious and trivial distinctions into spurn his compliments, and hunt which he has entered, and on which him from her society, must have he lays an importance to which they been as destitute of true feeling, or, are not certainly entitled. As the in other words, of natural feeling, question cannot be more properly inas he was himself. Every man's vestigated than in the treating of the experience informs him, that the genius of Cowley, I shall attempt to real beauties of objects fall infinitely place it in the clearest possible light. short of those which imagination Before we can venture to resolve “ leads forth;" but how ill-timed, this question, it is necessary to ascer, how cold, how insipid, how unpoetic, tain whether the want of natural how unphilosophic, how contrary to feeling which characterizes the wri. every precept of delicacy, to every ters, and particularly the poets who feeling of nature, to apply this truth flourished at the commencement of to the beloved object of our affec the seventeenth century, arose from tions. Yet Cowley has no hesita the circumstance of their being placed tion to compliment his mistress on midway between the extremes of the charms, which, according to his me state of nature and that of the most taphysical and unimpassioned feel- polished refinement; for if it arose ings, could not properly belong to from any other cause, our present her. In fact, the following lines enquiry would be vain, for we should evidently tell her, that his attach not only be tracing an effect to a ment is not credited by any charms wrong cause, but all our arguments which she actually possesses, but by would be necessarily erroneous, as those which are figured in his own they would be formed on an erroneimagination, than which, we cannot ous assumption. If the want of
natural feeling in the poets of the se rations of intellect. Their thoughts venteenth century resulted from the are often new, but seldom natural; stage which they had reached in the they are not obvious, but neither are career of science, the same cause they just; and the reader, far from must have produced the same effect in wondering that he missed them, wonall countries; and, wherever science ders more frequently by what perhas traversed half her course, we shall verseness of industry they were ever find the predominance of art and the found. Their courtship was void of extention of nature characterize the fondness, and their lamentation of poetry of the age. The thing to be sorrow. Their wish was only to say ascertained then is, whether this be what they hoped had never been said a fact or not: whether the poetry of before." every country present the same as The character, which Dr. Johnson pect in the same stage of intellectual here gives of the writers who flouimprovement I believe it requires rished in England at the commencebut a slight acquaintance with the ment of the seventeenth century, is history of literature to discover, that the charaeter of the writers of every the fact is what I have stated it to country in the middle stage of scibe, and that every nation is more or ence; but though the Doctor treats less under the dominion of art, by at considerable length of the promiwhich I here mean false feeling and nent features, which characterize the false perceptions of beauty, in pro. poetry of this class of writers; though portion as it more or less nearly ap he shews them destitute of all true proaches the middle stage in the feeling, he assigns no reason for 'so march of intellect. We find that the remarkable a feature in the poetry eloquence and the poetry of savages of the age. Let us endeavour to exis always natural, and frequently plain it. sublime, though they seldom evince In the state of nature every one, either delicacy or refinement. What who has the ambition of communi. writeris more sublime than the savage cating to writing his own uncultiOssian: he has even more delicacy vated ideas, indites them exactly as than Cowley and most of his contem- they arise in his mind, without art, poraries: but indeed there is great order, or inversion. The more any reason to apprehend that he has too writer neglects authority, communes much delicacy for a savage, and that with his own mind alone, and ne. he owes a considerable portion of gleets the information which he this amiable attribute to the mistaken might have derived from others, the generosity of his translator, But if more he
pursues this mode of writnatural feeling be characteristic of ing. Of this Montaigne is a noted the savage state, we find it is equally instance No writer neglected more so of the state of extreme refinement, or perhaps despised more the aid, The eloquence of Cicero and De- which he might have acquired from mosthenes were natural and sublime, others. He always thought for himwhile it was polished and refined to self, and communicated every thought the last degree: they aimed at no to paper in the order of priority. false beauties;- they endeavoured to « First come first serve," was always excite no false emotions in the minds his motto, and therefore the first of their auditors. The same may thought, that occurred to him, was be said of the poetry of Virgil and the first he wrote down without Horace: their feelings were at once waiting to examine whether the
pronatural and refined. But when we position it contained was liable to come to the middle state, how woe any exceptions. Accordingly he is fully is the scene reversed. Of this perpetually raising objections to his we need no other instance than the
own arguments, because he did not literature of the middle age. To the perceive the objection when he first writers of this time, may be applied advanced the argument ; but having what Dr. Johnson says of Cowley once advanced it, he suffered it to and his contemporaries, that "they remain, and brings forward his obcannot be said to have imitated any jection afterward, the moment he thing; they neither copied nature perceives it. Hence Montaigne is nor life; neither painted the forms all nature, because he never consults of matter, nor represented the ope- any other authority than his own